


dee-eye-el-eff

by fenying



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, M/M, Single Parents, Suburbia, gay dads barbecuing as an emotional support group, mentions of snwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25443292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenying/pseuds/fenying
Summary: Joshua watches Wen Junhui flip patties at the Third Biannual Gay Dads’ Barbecue, and he’s starting to lose his mind.
Relationships: Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 30
Kudos: 142





	dee-eye-el-eff

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gildedlily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedlily/gifts).



> this is for lily, who supports all my agendas. in this case:  
> 1\. junshua  
> 2\. junhui sexy  
> 3\. single parents au  
> 4\. obligatory background snwu bc im fucking obsessed
> 
> to all lilys and non-lilys, pls enjoy. and also do not judge me too much. the first 400 words were reviewed by ao3 user lexiconartist as 'flagrant lusting after other dads' i think that is pretty apt thank u nat

A long, long time ago, someone had thought it would be a good idea to ordain regular gatherings for some of the people on their street. “It can’t be a coincidence that there are so many gay single fathers on this street,” Seungcheol had argued, and Joshua couldn’t find any flaw in that reasoning. “Might as well make something out of it.”

Joshua watches Wen Junhui flip patties at the Third Biannual Gay Dads’ Barbecue, and he’s starting to lose his mind.

Seungcheol is generally a levelheaded person, but Joshua really does not know what he was thinking when he decided that putting a bunch of gay and bisexual men in a single, tiny backyard during the peak of summer was going to work out well in any capacity. The first time they’d held one of these, Soonyoung and Wonwoo had nearly mauled each other in front of their kids in, like, the fighting way, and then two weeks later they’d revealed they were doing it in, uh, the other way. Hopefully not in front of their children, so no one has to call CPS. 

And yet they keep having these barbecues. If Joshua has to look at Junhui’s biceps in a sleeveless shirt as he works the grill any longer, he thinks he might have to move off this street. It would break poor Seungcheol’s heart, but it’s a small price to pay for his sanity. 

Junhui takes a break from making hamburgers to take a swig of beer, head tilted back as the bottle goes up. Some of the liquid slips out of the mouth of the bottle and travels down his throat, and Joshua traces the path it takes with his eyes, unable to look away.

A tug on his hand. “Daddy,” says Vernon, as Joshua is forced to rip his eyes away to pay attention to his literal child. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, bud,” says Joshua, patting Vernon on the head. “You hungry?”

“Yeah!” says Vernon, grinning. One of his teeth is starting to look loose, and Joshua makes a mental note in his head to expect to find it under his pillowcase soon. “Seungkwan said Uncle Junhui was making hamburgers.”

“That he is, buddy,” says Joshua, refusing to look in the grill’s direction as he scans the table for—there it is. He pops the tab open on an unopened beer, guzzling it down and grimacing at the taste. He fucking hates beer, but no one wanted to cater wine for a party full of men in their early thirties that eat like bears and their children. “That he is.”

Joshua is a good person. Sure, he accidentally shoplifted those tiny little sanitizers from Bath and Body Works that one time because he thought they were samples, and sure, the last time he went to church was six months ago for Christmas and only because they were giving out free dinner, and sure, he almost cursed in front of Vernon three times this past week, but he is a _good person_. He has no idea what he’s done to deserve this hellish torture, this cruel and unusual punishment, this—

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Vernon?”

“You’re staring again.”

“Godda—” Joshua starts, before cutting himself off abruptly. “Gosh dangit. Sorry, Vernonie. Daddy’s just a little distracted today.”

“That’s okay,” says Vernon. What a good kid, although it might be because Seungcheol had plied him with promises of Seungkwan and ice pops. Seungcheol’s the real villain here—imagine using your own son as leverage over his best friend. Joshua would never.

 _You just did last week_ , says a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Jeonghan. Fuck off, Jeonghan. He’s a good person.

But Joshua does miss Jeonghan, he realizes, looking mournfully over at the grill where Junhui’s shirt seems to have gotten even tighter on him. Jeonghan would know what to do in this situation—either remind him of his very important, very pressing parental responsibilities, or lock him in a closet with Junhui until the overwhelming sexual tension resolved into _something_. Jeonghan’s smart like that. Too bad he wasn’t smart enough to not get tied down to someone who lives in the city through mar— marria— he can’t even say it. 

Joshua has no such obligations, and thus, he’s smarter than Jeonghan in at least one way. He does, however, have a child. This is where he’s dumber—now he has to make sure he doesn’t taint his son in the way that he really, really hopes Soonyoung and Wonwoo have not scandalized their own children. 

He is a Good Person, and that involves being a Good Dad too. He has to raise his child _right_ —and that includes not coming off like a bumbling, gay mess to his young impressionable son. The youth will latch onto anything these days. One time Soonyoung had mixed up his idioms and said “that’s a cake in the park,” and now all their kids say it. Even Vernon. They don’t even know what it _means_. 

Case in point: “Do you need help, Vernonie?” Joshua asks, when Vernon’s trying to pour himself a cup of soda, and Vernon gleefully declares, “Nope! It’s a cake in the park!” And then he spills half the bottle onto the grass. 

Joshua pulls him away from the mess, fussing at where he’s gotten some of the liquid on his shirt, when suddenly there’s a napkin being shoved in his face. The napkin is being held by a hand attached to an arm belonging to one Wen Junhui. Joshua knows because he had very slowly dragged his eyes up the fingers, along the forearm, to the bicep and then the face. Junhui has an objectively nice face as well—it’s easy to see who God’s favorite is. 

“Everything alright?” he asks, looking far too concerned for Joshua’s own good and still holding the spatula he was using to flip burgers. Joshua’s brain short-circuits. 

“Yep! Walk in the piece,” he says, snatching the napkin out of Junhui’s hand. Oh no, Soonyoung’s brain worms have started to affect _him_ , too. 

“Walk in the piece,” Vernon parrots. Goddamnit.

“Your daddy’s got some fuzz in the brain, like a bunch of dead spiders rolled up into a ball and collecting dust,” Junhui tells Vernon, solemn. Joshua’s torn between the sheer thrill of hearing _daddy_ in Junhui’s voice referring to him and—dead spiders? What the fuck?

Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Ew. Are they going to crawl out his ears?”

“Of course not,” laughs Junhui. “They’re already dead!”

“They’re just hypothetical spiders, buddy,” says Joshua, still trying to dab at Vernon’s shirt while Junhui regales his son with tales of whatever deceased creatures may be lingering in Joshua’s head.

“What does hypothetical mean?”

“Means it might not be spiders in his head,” says Junhui. “It could be bees instead.”

“Okay,” Joshua says loudly, “all cleaned up. Why don’t we get you over to Seungkwannie and we can go ask Uncle Seungcheol about those ice pops?”

“Okay!” Vernon readily agrees. “Bye, Uncle Junhui,” he calls as Joshua marches him off. “Thanks for telling me about the spiders in Daddy’s brain!”

“It could be bees, too!” Junhui calls back. “Or other bugs! Don’t forget, Vernonie!”

Joshua brings him over to where Seungkwan’s engrossed in watching a roly-poly bug crawl across the ground. Next to him is Minghao, who looks awfully bored squatting next to him. Seungkwan doesn’t look up when Vernon sits down next to him, starts whispering to him and pointing at the bug without a moment’s hesitation, but Minghao does. He looks at Joshua. Joshua looks back.

“Your father’s kind of weird,” he tells him.

“I know,” says Minghao. “Did he say your fingernails were going to turn into fish?”

“Nope!” says Vernon. “He said Daddy’s head had dead spiders in it!”

“Ew,” Seungkwan giggles. “Uncle Joshua, you need to clean your head out.”

“Don’t ask my dad for help,” says Minghao. “He’ll tell Uncle Joshua to pour orange soda into his ear.”

God, is he going to have to call CPS on Junhui? “Please tell me your dad has never done that to you,” he says, distressed.

“No,” says Minghao, and Joshua lets out a sigh of relief. Junhui’s sexy ass is safe from jail for now. “He just makes me eat ginger soup when I’m sick. Sometimes I think I’d rather take my chances with the orange soda.”

“What brand?” asks Vernon. 

Minghao thinks about it for a moment. “It has to be Fanta,” he says decisively. “I don’t like any other brands.”

They don’t even notice when Joshua leaves, intensely debating the merits of various brands of orange soda. He walks over to where Seungcheol seems to be having the time of his life losing miserably to Jihoon at ping-pong. Joshua stands and watches him for a minute. He misses every single ball. 

When Wonwoo finally taps him out, Joshua follows him over to where they’ve set up the foldable chairs. “I’m being tortured,” he says very calmly as Seungcheol sits down, breathing heavily.

“Really now,” says Seungcheol, giving him a lazy smile. “By who?”

Joshua plucks the visor off his head—as if he couldn’t get any more Lame Asian Dad. “By Junhui,” he says, tossing the visor onto another seat. “Do you know what he told my son?”

“What?”

“That I had dead spiders in my head!” says Joshua. “And they might not even be spiders! They could be bees!”

Seungcheol bursts into laughter, high-pitched giggles that would be endearing if Joshua weren’t so irate with him right now. This is all his fault. Who thought it would be a good idea to hold a Gay Dads’ Barbecue, anyways? Only Seungcheol would have such a serious lapse in judgment. “That’s just Junhui. You know that.”

Joshua sighs. “I do. And yet.”

“You still want to jump his bones,” Seungcheol says knowingly. “There, there.”

Unfortunately, along with having incredibly poor judgment Seungcheol also has the worst timing ever, because Chan just happens to pass by at that moment and overhear their conversation. “Daddy,” he yells across the backyard. “What does ‘jump your bones’ mean?”

Time comes to a grinding halt as everyone stops what they’re doing to turn and look at Chan. Joshua’s heart deflates in his chest like a popped balloon—loudly and embarrassingly similar to a farting sound. At least it’s only in his head. Small mercies. 

“What?” screeches Soonyoung, turning around from the grill with a skewer of charred zucchini chunks in his hand. Joshua chants to himself that he is a good person. “Who told you that?”

“Uncle Seungcheol did,” says Chan, the little snitch. Joshua’s giving him less money in his white envelope for Lunar New Year than the other kids. “He said that Uncle Joshua wanted to jump Uncle Junhui’s bones.”

In slow motion, everyone turns to look at Joshua. Joshua thinks his head might explode from how hot his cheeks are, and then dead spiders would burst out. Wonwoo catches his eye, smirking at him. Like _ha, I’m not the only one to embarrass myself at one of these barbecues. Welcome to the club_. Joshua hates him. He doesn’t want to join the stupid little club Wonwoo and Soonyoung have going on, he is a _good person_. This is all Seungcheol’s fault.

“It doesn’t mean anything big,” says Joshua, crouching down next to Chan and masking his desire to shrivel up and die right there with a gentle smile. See, would a bad person be able to do that? “It just means I want to beat Uncle Junhui at ping-pong. But don’t say it to your friends, okay? It’s not very nice. Uncle Seungcheol was being rude.”

Seungcheol kicks him in the back, but Joshua ignores him. “Pinky promise me, Channie?”

Chan thinks for a moment, then nods. “Only if I can have an ice pop.”

Joshua links their pinkies together, then pats his back and nudges him towards Seungcheol. “Uncle Seungcheol has some in the freezer, go ask him for one. And tell him to clean his mouth out while he’s at it.”

Everyone else goes back to doing what they were doing, and Joshua heaves a sigh of relief. He is so good at damage control. He’s so busy with recovering from the situation and mentally patting himself on the back that he doesn’t notice Junhui sneaking up behind him until he’s _right there_ , whispering into Joshua’s ear. “So I have it on good word that you’ve been looking to beat me at ping-pong?"

Joshua tries not to jump out of his own skin, but he’s not sure he does a great job when Junhui laughs lowly. “I am. I think you deserve it for telling my son I have dead spiders in my head.”

Junhui cackles, walking over to the other side of the table and picking up one of the paddles. “Doesn’t have to be spiders, Shua,” he says, a catlike glint in his eye. “Could be bees. Could be cockroaches.”

Joshua thinks he is kind of fucked for still finding someone extremely attractive while they are insinuating that there are dead bugs inside of his head, but it’s not the weirdest thing he’s ever done. He picks up a paddle, readying the little plastic ball in front of it. “Is that all you’re interested in out of what I have to offer? The hypothetical dead bugs in my head?”

“I didn’t say that,” says Junhui, smiling.

Joshua hits the ball. 

It doesn’t take them long for them to realize that both of them are even worse at ping-pong than Seungcheol, and that’s saying a lot. Joshua sets his paddle down with a wheeze as Junhui chases the little ball around, dropping it back into the netting on the side. “So I may have spoken too soon.”

Junhui sets his paddle down next to Joshua’s, still looking unfairly good even as sweat slips down the line of his jaw. Joshua wants to trace its path with his tongue, and then feels immediately grossed out at himself for thinking that. Maybe a little too far. But the point stands that Junhui still looks like he could be on the cover of Men’s Health or GQ even in all his sweaty, dead bug-hypothesizing glory. Joshua doesn’t buy magazines but he thinks he’d subscribe if they featured Junhui.

Junhui shrugs. “So that didn’t work out. The nice thing about life is that it’s not all about beating people at ping-pong. Sometimes cooperation is better than competition.”

Joshua blinks at the weirdly sage advice. “Okay?”

“What I am saying,” Junhui says solemnly, “is that if we sneak into the house and move our conversation into Seungcheol’s empty bedroom, I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

“Oh.” Joshua gulps. For the most part, he’s a good person, but he is not immune to temptations. This is all Seungcheol’s fault, anyways—he might as well make it up to Joshua in some way. And Joshua might not trust the rest of these walking disasters with much, but he at least trusts them to watch his son for an hour. He’s been good long enough already. “Okay, yeah. Sounds like a plan.”

And if Minghao sees Junhui wrap a hand around Joshua’s wrist and pull him inside, he doesn’t tell anyone. 

**Author's Note:**

> they watch cat videos on seungcheol's couch. no funny business here
> 
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/88byeol)


End file.
